Kamikakushi

[purplexing]

Who: Donnie and...
What: A shopping trip goes awry...
Where: Name your space mall
When: Late Juneish


Sure, it's cool and all, being able to virtually make anything you need simply by putting your hands on things, but that requires things you don't really want to be able to change them. That would also be admitting that the supposed gift bestowed upon him is actually useful and appreciated, and Donnie does not want to give Amalgamous Prime that satisfaction, even if the old Prime is dead. But then dead Primes so far as he's discovered, have had this way of still slipping into people's business...

Nothing beats a good, old-fashioned shopping trip anyway. It's not a pleasure Donnie's had very often back home, most of his shopping relegated to online, at least until they got a bit bolder about being around in broad daylight in public. Oh, the power of hoodies and the natural ignorance of human beings!

But here, he's simply seen as another alien, albeit a young one. Not that he forgoes the hoodie. It's just more comfortable to wear and loose enough to wear over his most streamlined battle shell, a segmented, sleek thing that he's designed solely for that extra protective layer, without any additional bells and whistles. He's also got on a dark pair of cargo pants because he likes the pockets.

"Oh, excellent, there's a bookstore," he says as he peruses the directory. Books are one thing he definitely can't just make without completely knowing what content he wants in it, and he's always looking to add things to his growing collection. "And a plant shop? Ugh, I should've brought a bigger bag," he mutters, turning to step over to the railing to tip down his goggles. According to the map, both shops should be in the same wing-

"Augh! Illex!" the turtle teen sputters as he feels a tongue slurp his hand. He pulls his goggles off, not at all looking amused as the headpiece twists upwards with a toothy grin. "I really need to remember to double-check my things... You were supposed to stay home."

The mimic whines as Donnie slides the goggles into his bag. Wearing them is just going to keep ending up with similar results, but it feels strange without anything on his head, so he pulls up his hood as he starts down the walkway.

Comments

[fenixnpcs]

I promise. It's the best I can do. Tezca means it.

Grusa's grin widens under the mask as the fae sighs and leans back. "Such fire. Pity that you stole. You would have made a fine servant."

"Will they sleep?" Tezca asks, and his voice sounds young, 24 at best.

Grusa humans with a chin tap. "Perhaps I'll be kind and let you sleep, both for my work and Tezca's."

You don't want to be awake. They always scream when Grusa works. Princess Maya made it painless, as do many of the other students, but Grusa... It's better to be sleeping.

[purplexing]

Why are you helping this...this monster?

Donnie keeps his attention on Grusa. He doesn't know what Tezca's angle might be, or if he genuinely wants to help, but neither does he want to give anything away. At least it's easy to be angry at Grusa, and he only seethes more at the fae's response.

But there's a flicker of dread then, and Tezca's explanation doesn't help to settle it. Donnie thinks of the wolf creature the others had brought back, mad out of its mind, of the other creatures that his brother had faced, twisted things with no sense of what they used to be.

He's not entirely sure what Tezca's part will be in this either, but knowing it must be to do with the mind prompts a few traitorous tears slip.

[fenixnpcs]

I have no choice. The Queen said I must, but that doesn't mean I want to. This is wrong, yet... I have no choice.

[purplexing]

So he has the queen to thank for that too? His List is going to be impressive. ...if there's any point to it.

Because he doesn't know how much of his self he'll be able to hang onto. Because he doesn't know what's going to happen, and while Grusa may think they're being 'kind' for some part, it's not at all a kindness at all.

He's never wanted to be anywhere other than home as badly as he does right at this moment, safe with his brothers, safe with his father, with April...

There's that familiar sensation in his gut, like a chasm's opened up beneath him with now way to avoid it, and all he can do is fall. It's a horrible, hopeless feeling and it sinks its teeth in deep.

"I-I'm sorry Rock..." Donnie whispers, head hanging.

...I don't know how to fix this one...

[gentlebluebomber]

If he could reach for Donnie's hand, he would. He would squeeze it and tell him everything will be all right. Its not impossible, but in the very moment Rock can not comfort back.

He struggles in his seat once more. Giving up so quickly as he bites his lip down glaring at Grusa. His snarls turn to wet snippits of sobs. Bravado slips.

He then rips his head away from Grusa and looks at a wall. His voice wants to say so much.

I hate you. To Grusa.

You did all you could. To Donnie.

I want my father. To no one who can hear him.

Run. To who. Perhaps the poor other in this room who does not want to be here either.

Finally... Finally Rock musters something with those soft glitches of red optics.

"You better hope I don't remember this." He threatens.

[fenixnpcs]

"You shall'nt." Grusa smiles and with a click of cloud-like fingers, the fae puts Donnie and Rock to sleep.

Over the course of the next week, they are physically and mentally shaped into what Grusa wants: Tools and weapons to inflict misery on the ones that will seek to save them, though the fae is careful to appear loving and kind each time the pair are awoken to test the changes.

By the time they are done, all either know is what Grusa told them they would:

"-know only me as your maker, as your creator, as a parent. As the one who's cared for you and your brother all your lives. Yet you will know that the monsters from your nightmares seek you out. That they wish to steal you away from my loving embrace. You will know that the only salvation is to kill them, oh children mine, before they harm me and steal you away."

The monsters are coming; they are safe for now, but it's only a matter of time before the monsters arrive to harm the only adult who's ever cared for them, and to steal them away for unthinkable fates.

[purplexing]

Waking each time in pain and mentally drained, to see that face, strangely masked as it is, has always been a comfort. He doesn't know why it would always hurt, but the promise that it would end is there, and Donnie has no reason not to believe it.

It's taken some time to get used to the extra appendages, and he'd at first felt clumsy with them, not understanding why he couldn't get his legs to work the way he wanted them to, hating how his back would ache and wondering what he'd done wrong. But he's gotten better, stronger. Grusa had praised him for it, and he's clung to the attention, craving more from Grusa's hidden lips whenever something he does pleases them, pushing himself to do his best, especially when it comes to proving his fighting prowess with staff and his own limbs.

He hadn't liked having to go to sleep, especially in those times between such tests. That's when the nightmares would come, and there'd seem no end, but once he'd wake up, Donnie could never remember things very well, save for pain, for some deep-seated fear, and flashes of blue and vibrant orange.

To be told that the things of his nightmares are real... Well, Grusa has never lied to them, and while the fear of being sought and taken away is there, there too is anger and incredulity, for who would dare defy Grusa?

"They'll never get that far, Father. We'll teach them that nothing will separate us from you."

[gentlebluebomber]

Rock says nothing at first, adjusting to the data at hand. A quiet thing he'd always been, his eyes dart side to side as if expecting something to come this very second for them. A ping in his chest at the mere thought of being away from his brother, and father.

What cruelty. His lips turn up, as he holds onto his own bio cables. Something that made him feel disgusting for some reason, and yet he would never say as such. Strong children are self reliant. But a good child is dependent in all ways upon the parent. And Rock will always be a child. His choices will never be only his own. He must do as father says.

But...

"Do they have to die?" Soft as he is. Its always a question, a part of him. "Do we leave survivors?"

Its not easy. But they are things need to be done. But perhaps they can be harvested, salvaged. Small mercies would be death, but death is scarier isn't it?

Death means... they just stop.

/ caps this off

[fenixnpcs]

"I know, and yes, my darlings. Death is the only way to halt the monsters. I wish it were not so, yet..." Grusa looks down, wings low and tight with regret and sorrow as the rest against the fae's back.

"Yet enough of such sorrowful talk. We are safe, we are together. Nothing will tear us apart. Now, you must be hungry. Come, a banquet awaits in celebration of your tests being finished at last, my dearest darlings."